


To Say The War Is Over Is to Say You Are A Widow

by RobinTrigue



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alcohol, Bisexuality, Conversations, Friendship, Grief
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-24
Updated: 2018-02-24
Packaged: 2019-03-23 06:00:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13781229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RobinTrigue/pseuds/RobinTrigue
Summary: It's VE Day and the war has been won. But in a corner, some untidy spot, two tired people let their emotions catch up with them.





	To Say The War Is Over Is to Say You Are A Widow

**Author's Note:**

> This is part of a looooooong WIP I have about historically accurate trans man Steve Rogers which may yet see the light of day, but this passage works stand alone.

Peggy found him lying down in a back corner of his laboratory, an empty tumbler on its side next to him and the whiskey bottle in his hand. It was so quiet, that far underground, that you could barely hear the whooping and celebration outside. It was warm, though; with all the generators running you would never know it was only May. Peggy had taken off her jacket as soon as the elevator doors opened, it was so warm. She carried it loose in her arms, transferring it to one hand when she’d heard the slight _tink_ of the glass bottle being set on the floor in the far room. When she’d found him, she didn’t quicken her pace, even though she’d been looking for him. Merely walked slowly towards him, idly, as though they’d both found their way there by accident. Without meeting his eyes, she leant against the adjacent wall and let herself slide down it. For a while, neither of them spoke.

“I know there’s another glass somewhere in this lab,” Howard said eventually. “A gentleman would get it for you, but I can’t quite reach my own at the moment.” He waved his free hand to the side vaguely. The glass hadn’t rolled more than a foot away from him, but he wasn’t very invested in the charade of caring about where it was.

“I’m fine so long as you pass me that bottle,” Peggy said. He did, and she took a swig of it. She didn’t plan on getting drunk, but she certainly couldn’t have this conversation sober. And there wasn’t anywhere else she could be today, either. It felt like this powered-down base was the only real place left in the world. She’d been sapped of all her energy in one go the moment the news came through, that they had won. She knew she should be feeling elation, if not at the culmination of hard work then at least that so many people were safe, that so many people could come home. But all she felt was suddenly empty, as though she’d spent months studying a veil that had suddenly been lifted to reveal a great chasm behind it. Odysseus’s wife, she thought, then laughed quietly to herself as she had another drink.

“I could do with a joke right now,” Howard said. He was facing towards her, letting his head roll against the wall. It was strange seeing him like this. He was still the same man, wearing the handsome face and the devilish moustache; it was strange to see his eyes looking so tearstained and broken.

“We won,” Peggy replied, not a joke but near enough for the moment. He snorted quietly, reaching to get the whiskey back and she gave it to him.

“Yeah. We sure did,” he said. He lifted the alcohol to his lips and paused, supporting it in midair with one arm as he leant back again and stared up at the ceiling. “I committed treason, you know.”

“Oh?”

“Those ships. We could’ve used them on the front. I said I had a way of tracing him, maybe I did. Kept ‘em out longer than provisioned.”

“Well I’m sorry to say your attempt at sabotage didn’t succeed. We still won the war.” They’d worked together enough times to learn each other’s senses of humour, and looking at Howard now she saw his weak chuckle.

“Yeah, you’re telling me,” he said, and took his drink. “Dunno why I’m hoarding this booze when you’re the one who actually lost someone.”

Peggy heard the clipped, bitter tone Howard wasn’t able to keep out of his voice. “We all lost him, Howard.”

“Yeah, but you did lose him more,” he said with an unhappy laugh as he leant over to grab the escaped tumbler, blowing in it to get the dust out. “Wasn’t mine or Colonel Phillips’s face in that compass, Peg.”

There was silence for a few more minutes, punctuated only by the sound of Howard’s drinking.

“I was doing fine, you know,” Peggy said at last. “I cried, when it happened. I was on the other end of the line, of course I cried. But then... life kept going, and there’s no time off for grief in a war, not when there’s a job to do. And I kept doing it, and I was good at it.” She looked at Howard with pleading eyes and he met her gaze, nodding, letting her continue. “I got on with what needed to be done, and it was thrilling, some of it. Winning.” A quiet laugh. “Of course, winning’s all well and good until you’ve won. And then you’re left with this.” She gestured at the dark and empty room, the quiet halls beyond. “I know it’s selfish, to want to focus on my grief when so many people right now are alive and have good reason to celebrate, but...”

“It’s not selfish,” Howard said, with more sincerity and gentleness than she’d have thought he was capable of, and he softly rested one hand on top of hers. Like a button being pressed, this seemed to be all she needed for the tears to suddenly come streaming, every drop she hadn’t cried for the last ten months. Neither she nor Howard moved, they just waited until her sobs became quieter and fewer.

“The thing about people is they only understand tragedies that have happened, not the ones that could happen,” he said quietly, when she’d collected herself a bit. He took his hand back to run it though his hair, looking even more dishevelled than he did before. “Captain America, the mythical hero, dies saving everyone from a bomb – what does that mean? It never went off. They’ve only learnt about it after learning they’re safe. There’s no scale for them, no reality. It’ll feel to everyone as though he’s just disappeared, for no real reason. They don’t know what he’s saved them from.” Peggy didn’t have anything to say to that, so he went on. “In a few years time he’ll be just another fairy tale, something to slap onto a soda label to sell drinks.”

“We won’t let them forget,” Peggy promised. “Everyone loves him already, they’re not going to stop talking about him anytime soon. He was a hero, a real one.”

Howard’s laugh was louder, and bitter again. “Yeah, everybody loves ol’ Stevie. How could they not?” He drank from the bottle again, and Peggy took it from him, setting it down slightly outside his reach. He didn’t complain too much.

“Kids in the States are already playing at being him, him and Bucky,” he said after another moment. When neither of them were speaking, Peggy leant back against the wall with her eyes closed. Everything still felt so strong and raw, having the dark and quiet felt a little like the only chance available to breathe. “I’ll bet half the little suckers don’t know he’s dead, think he was the one who did away with Hitler personally.”

Peggy smiled at the thought. “I was with him you know, the night after Bucky fell.”

“Oh yeah? How’d he look?”

“About as bad as we do now.” They both laughed hard at that, it wasn’t funny really but it was a relief, like finding a piece of stable footing as the world dropped away around them, to know that they’d all been fucked up by this goddamn war. The first real laugh either of them had all day, maybe all month. Maybe longer.

“I’d made a date with him, to go dancing,” Peggy said, when they’d both calmed. “It was something we always....” she didn’t know how to explain it, so she simply moved on. She wasn’t really talking for Howard’s benefit anyway. “We were going to get together a week that Saturday. He’d crashed before we even finished saying it, but I went anyway.”

“Did he show?” Howard asked, and she looked at him and smiled and he smiled back. It was strange, she thought, that misery could feel so funny, but maybe having too many emotions to bear meant wires like that got crossed sometimes. She still didn’t feel anything, not really, not even sadness, but talking like this felt like some kind of weight was lifting anyway. For all she’d been thinking about Stevie every day, she’d never put those thoughts into words, and having them in words made them tangible, real memories she could touch and feel instead of ghosts. It was good to get them out. She’d have a whole collection of memories to think about when her emotions came back to her.

“God, Stevie. Only person I ever knew who was exactly what he claimed to be.”

Peggy thought about this for a minute, before smiling to herself, a happy, satisfied sort of smile. “Yes. He was.”

“He never did anything to me, you know,” Howard said, staring into her eyes as if seeking some kind of affirmation, not for himself but a witness, someone who could testify to Stevie’s greatness. “I know what they do with guys like me, and he never did, not even when he had reason to.”

“Howard - ” Peggy started, before wondering if she really had any right to continue. Did she really have any right to spill Stevie’s secrets, even now, even though he wasn’t coming back.

“Oh come on Peg, don’t go all British on me now,” he said, without any real emotion or concern in his voice.

“That wasn’t what I was going to say,” she said, gently nudging one of his feet with hers. He looked up from where he’d been staring at his entwined fingers, silly little moustache all exhausted and sad. “I – I was just going to say that he never turned me in either,” she improvised, and it was true in its way. Howard smiled and nodded at her.

“Well here we are, a party of romantic deviants. Come one, come all, see how the queers celebrate VE Day!” He raised his empty tumbler to the ceiling with a loud whoop. It echoed slightly. Peggy didn’t know if she’d ever seen a human being look sadder.

Howard’s head fell forwards and he did nothing but breathe quietly for some time. Peggy opened her mouth to say something, she wasn’t sure what, when he spoke again.

“I kissed him, you know,” he said. “Just the once, on the lips. Hell knows why. He didn’t even get mad, just turned me down all gentle.”

“I don’t think Stevie’s the sort to get angry about love,” Peggy said, and when Howard looked up she saw there were tears on his cheeks.

“Yeah,” he said simply, not bothering to wipe his eyes. They both sat for a while longer. It sounded dimly like someone was shooting off fireworks outside, the familiar sound of the explosions acting like a blanket to Peggy’s emotions; they seemed more distant, easier to cope with.

“I wish I’d had more time with him,” Peggy said quietly. “I – I don’t know how to talk about what we were. But we couldn’t be anything, really, with the war. People talk about the thrill of loving a soldier, the adrenaline of not knowing if you’ll both be alive by your next meeting.”

“I’m not sure they call it a thrill,” Howard pointed out, but that wasn’t really the point being discussed here.

“I loved him, and I think he loved me, but we could never put each other first when there was fighting to be done. I wish I’d got a chance to tell him I loved him, without the caveats.” She sighed. “I kissed him, before he got on that plane. I think I was telling him then. But then he died, so I’m still not sure whether it counts. Does anything count if it happens an hour before a person dies.”

“His death saved a lot of people, so that counted. What happened before it must have done too.”

“Yes, but not to him. How could he think about me loving him when he can’t think at all, when he’s out there somewhere in a block of ice, and we can’t even find his body.” She punched the ground for the futility of it all, and Howard watched her, saying nothing.

“I know you tried,” she said when she was calmer, and he chuckled.

“Yeah, I know I did too. Doesn’t help though, does it.” It was strange to think that they were the only ones in this whole base, that no one would probably come down here until tomorrow at least. That the lights would stay dim and neither of them would have to move, that they could stay in stasis without any disruption from the outside world. That they could stay remembering Stevie, no reality breaking through forcing them to celebrate or move on.

“I loved him, Peggy,” Howard said simply. His eyes were closed. “I loved him and I’m never going to be able to say that outside of this room.” He seemed to not know what to do with his body without the distraction of the whiskey bottle so he stayed frozen with his hands in his lap, not moving except for his lips. “I don’t love many people, so when the cameras start swarming in on you tomorrow and asking you to tell them how much you loved Ol’ Stars and Stripes, you’d better answer for me too because you’re the only one who can.”

“I’ll try,” she said, and discovered she was choking back tears. Howard opened his eyes and looked at her, then moved his hands so he could shift his body, edging himself onto the wall she was sitting against and wrapping one arm around her shoulders. He leant his head onto her shoulders so she could lean her head onto his. They stayed like that for a long time, taking turns to cry quietly, and Peggy was grateful.

“What do you think you’re gonna do now?” Howard asked, after goodness knows how long. Time didn’t seem to really exist down here tonight.

“Oh, I don’t know. Stay with the Reserve, I suppose. Or maybe open a fish and chips shop.” She laughed, her tears turning it into a kind of hiccup.

“You’d get good business for that in the States, we love your fancy English foods,” he said with a smile. Peggy had never been this close to Howard before, and could smell his cologne quite strongly now. It was terrible, but since he wasn’t courting her she didn’t really mind. It was the sort of smell one could forgive a friend for wearing.

“How about you? Any big plans?” she asked.

“Well, now rationing’s ended the tabloids won’t be able to complain anymore if I date lots of pretty girls,” he said. “Hey, if you do wind up in America you should give me a call and maybe I’ll share.”

“I think the pretty girls you like and the pretty girls I like are very different sorts of women,” Peggy said with a smile, sniffling slightly as she wiped her nose with one hand.

“Yeah, you’re right, you’ve got your fancy refined foreign taste, you’re not a simple country boy like me,” Howard joked, and she pushed him gently with her shoulder. He gave her a small squeeze.

“They’re not going to forget him Howard, they’re really not,” she said.

“I know,” he replied with a sigh. “But they’re not exactly going to remember him the way we are, are they?”

“No,” Peggy said. “We’re just going to have to live very long, happy lives and remember him ourselves.” She could feel him blink on her shoulder, and pet his hair gently with one hand. He squeezed her again.

“You’re right, of course,” he said. “You’re always right, Peggy. You’re like him in that. He’d want us to be out there, living. What would he say if he saw our sorry asses in here like this when there’s a party going on in the entire world out there.”

“He’d say something incredibly kind and understanding, of course,” she said, and they both laughed because it was true.

“Maybe we could start this whole ‘living’ business tomorrow.” Howard suggested.

“Yes,” Peggy agreed. She wasn’t sure she’d be able to face the crowds, or the happiness tomorrow either, but she’d have to someday and there was no backing away from life. But life was on hold for now, in that room, and that was a relief.

“I’m glad he had you, Peggy. Really glad. He deserved someone as good as you.”

“Oh Howard, you are good.”

“Now that ain’t one bit true, but I know you mean it anyway. You’re so much like him, Peggy. All the important things about him live on in you.”

A tear welled in Peggy’s eye. “I hope you’re right, Howard. Because we’re all going to need to be a lot more like Stevie now he’s gone.”

“Peg?”

“Yes Howard?”

“Think I’m falling asleep on you.”

“Yes, I think I might be too.”

“We’re gonna be mighty uncomfortable when we wake up.”

“You’d have thought Churchill would have the foresight to build these walls out some something softer than cement.”

Howard laughed softly into her shoulder. “Never lose your spark, Peg. You’re one in a million.”

“Go to sleep Howard,” Peggy said, nodding off herself. She was so, so tired.

“Whatever you want, pal.”

They drifted off together.


End file.
